It’s a sea of color and shadow.
Dappled blue, the ground is in the moonlight,
By every leaf clinging to its tree.

Your lungs burn with ice,
But pain isn’t part of the deal.
It’s spearmint air.

The pads of your feet fall soundlessly
Across inches of moist ground that the rain has kissed,
Leaving one’s toes to crumble the moist, earthy surface.

The drops of water splash onto your nose,
Dripping in drops of silver and blue,
Reflecting the moon’s proud glare, half-concealed by angry clouds approaching.

The lurching trees are friends,
Seeing the hot, salty tears pour down your face.
It is good that the storm helps disguise them, as the sky cries, too.

The pale light caresses your skin,
Comforting as best it can, but not enough,
Like a cold, fluffy blanket.

A handful of berries dangling from their branch
Tremble sympathetically,
As if they, too, feel the lack of heat dwelling within.

But the moss and the vines twisting around your ankles,
Nor the guarding pillars that are trees,
Can stifle the onslaught of grief screaming inside.

Leaves dance welcomingly at every movement,
But as you push a branch aside carelessly, rudely,
The surroundings percept what they think are the intentions.

The blade of wispy wood retaliates, slicing a mark across your cheek.
Pain stings where heat rolls down your jaw--
Punishment for a crime unintended.

Suddenly you are stumbling over logs,
Fighting to continue through the thickening foliage.
Thorns mercilessly stab your feet.

A bush hisses with its friend, the wind.
The sobs shake your chest now, in vain,
For not even nature is an ally.

Ankles snag on a groping tree limb, and the ground is upon you.
You shudder in fright as the tree snarls,
And yank your foot away, terrified.

For a moment you crouch in the hands of cold grass.
The thin green strands are true ice.
Goosebumps rise on your flesh, bringing shivers.

The crushing weight of worlds
Plummets over like a waterfall
As you realize where you lay.

The breeze thickens, then thins.
The forest accepts that its opponent has been defeated.
Stillness and silence sweep the scene.

Your eyelids shut,
The blood and water rush down your face.
The rain has slowed, now gentle.

When you blink and peer at the world around again,
Breathing out a few escapable troubles,
The scene has returned to its soft glow.

The trees survey in grave apology.
The storm thunders disapproval from afar,
But it has already moved on.

You whisper a silent forgiveness to the forest.
The grass curls down against your sides,
A cold and sorrowful hug.

In that moment,
In the arms of nature,
Something breaks.

But you are a little better.